Shower
by bluelily3
Summary: Vegeta and Bulma's first intimate encounter. Will it change the way things were. Make them better? Or worse?


Bulma had never known tension like this. The very air around her was loaded with pressure. It was terrifying...in the best way possible. Now she understood how some people could be masochistic. How you could get pleasure out of an exquisite pain. The longer she thought about it, the more the pressure built. She knew that an explosion was imminent. But she had no idea how to make it happen. After all, this was Vegeta here. The Prince of Stone Cold. The Prince of Raging Fire. How could one person be both at once? Yet, he was. He was so many things. She wanted to know them all. It was impossible.

She was driving him crazy. All he wanted was to train himself, push his body to the limits. He wanted to be left alone. But, he had to eat. He needed fuel to keep him going. That required going into the house. And every time he went into the house, he was bound to run into her. This… mysterious woman. She had a power he could not begin to understand. It wasn't just that she was attractive. He had seen beautiful woman before. Of all types. He had never batted an eye. Some of the guys had even joked that he was gay. Something that he also ignored. Nappa always kept them off his case. However, this Bulma...she was different. He could sense an intelligence unmatched to anyone's. Except his. Never had another life form felt so complicated. She just flicked her eyes to him, and he could feel it. Her chi reading was so small, but somehow it didn't matter. It wasn't a physical power he could sense. It was her mind.

When Vegeta was young, he had always thought that if he ever did decide to let a woman into his life, she would be strong. In fact, one of the Saiyan traditions was to fight with your partner. If the two warriors were equally matched, they were suited for each other. Being the prince, he had never had to challenge anyone. There had only been one other princess on the planet besides his sisters. She was two years younger than him. They met when she was practically a baby. That was exactly the way he had treated her. He had been disgusted that his father ever thought to match him up with the likes of her. How pathetic.

Later, she had been blown to ashes, along with the rest of his race. He never gave it a second thought. He never really gave women a second thought, either. He considered them all weak. The only strong Saiyan woman he ever knew was his own mother. And he'd only seen her a handful of times. Yet he could still remember how her eyes burned.

Now, when he looked at this woman, with her hair the color of the sky, he saw the same flame in her eyes. He knew that she could feel the same sort of pressure building. If she were a Saiyan, he would throw her down in an instant. He'd declare a no-holds-barred battle. It would be amazing. Bulma was no Saiyan. Yet, he still wanted to throw her down. But what exactly would he do with her once he got her there?

Bulma was folding clothes. She didn't really need to, since there were robots and servants for this sort of thing. Yet, here she was, folding and tucking. An endless pile of clothes. She hung the dresses up on hangers, and realized that she didn't wear as many of those as she used to. She got dirtier now than she ever did when she was a girl. Her clothes had oil stains all over them. She felt like she was folding the clothes of a mechanic. She sighed, and was about to give up on them and find something else to do with this horrible restless energy. Then she heard it. The pressure of water shooting out. The whisper of drops on the tiles. Behind this wall was the shower. The very one that she had asked Vegeta to use on his first day back from space. The one that he had used every day after that. She knew that he wasn't the type of man to shower every day. He was doing it because she had wanted him to. How could a man that powerful follow orders from someone like her? I mean, sure, she was beautiful, but when had he ever cared about anything like that? He only cared about blood and destruction. Didn't he? She supposed that he had followed plenty of orders when he was one of Frieza's men. But she was pretty sure that none of them had ever forced him to take a shower. She almost laughed at the thought. Then she was distracted from her thoughts by the sound of the water. It had changed. The drops hitting the floor were louder, as if puddles and rivulets were dripping off of his skin… She stood there for a few minutes, imagining. Then, she just couldn't take it anymore. She wanted more than the picture in her head. She wanted to feel him. She wanted to touch him. All those scars. That amazing hair. She fiercely needed it. More than she had ever needed anything in all her thirty years of life. She didn't care what he did. She had take this risk. For both of them.

As she stood outside the outer door to the shower, she thought about what happened earlier that day. There had been a look in his eyes. She wasn't sure what to make of it, but she knew right now that if she walked through that door, he would not push her away. There was desire there. He practically said he wanted her to her face. And not just sexually. There was a need, like the all powerful prince could possibly be asking for her help. For someone to rescue him from himself. She heard his plea, and she wanted desperately to answer it.

Vegeta was rubbing the dried blood off another scar when he heard the door open. It startled him at first, but he didn't let himself flinch. He felt into the air of the room for the chi. It belonged to the woman. His stomach immediately clenched. How had she managed to sneak up on him? He could sense her chi from all the way across the house. He had trained himself to, so that he wouldn't unexpectedly run into her. He was baffled, but that feeling traded for another one as soon as he saw her through the steamy glass door. Without a word, she pulled her shirt up over her head. He wanted to say something, to stop her somehow. But the words were thick in his throat. He gulped them down. Could she really be this brave? The very thought of that made something else besides his stomach tighten. It had only happened to him a handful of times before, and mostly in his adolescence. Those feelings had given way to battle long ago. Now they were back with full force. His hand instinctively went to his groin. To touch it, or cover it, he wasn't sure, but either way, he couldn't hide it now. He had always been small in stature, but not here. Without a second thought, a crooked grin broke out on his face. At that moment, the shower door opened. Not with timid caution, but wild abandon. She stood there, completely naked. He roamed her body with his eyes, and the crooked grin stayed on his face. She saw his smile, and smiled back. But this was no sweet smile. Her blue eyebrows arched almost into her hairline, and he felt himself getting harder. Gods, what was wrong with him? How could this little woman have so much power over him? Yet here she was. Giving herself to him. Prince Vegeta, the wild, untamed animal. Untouched by anyone. Her eyes were on the source of all the tension. Right on his groin. Watching as it stood proudly, like some sort of pillar. Unexpectedly, she spoke. Her voice was bold.

"Well. And here I thought you were all talk."

Bulma watched him closely. She might have said the wrong thing. Inside she was so nervous, and she felt any minute now her legs would start shaking. What was she _doing_ here? His dark eyes flashed for a moment, but she didn't sense anger. Then his grin deepened.

"I'm not. I can prove it to you."

She almost laughed out loud. They sounded like they were straight out of those dirty little romances that her mother liked to read. Yet, this was real. She was just about to feel how real it was. If he'd let her. When she looked at his manhood again, and stepped up into the shower, she realized that he would.

He backed up a pace to let her in. He couldn't believe this was happening. The braver she acted, the harder he got. Her teal hair, fluffy as a cloud, fell down in heavy ringlets when the water hit it. His fingers twitched. He wanted to reach out so badly. In more ways than one. But he wasn't sure how to start. For the first time ever, he thought about letting her lead him into this. Hell, she already had. She was in his shower. He hadn't brought her here. Suddenly, he felt panicky. Her hands were reaching, so close to his skin. Close to the numerous scars.

"Bulma...I-"

"Shh…" Her finger touched his lips. He fought the urge to back away and growl like an animal. But he had his own needs to consider. His groin was throbbing with a powerful force. It felt like it did when he charged his energy, only this time it was focused on one spot. Only this woman could bring him the release he wanted.

She bent her head towards his, and suddenly her lips were on his. He sucked in a startled breath, but then he just let it happen. His hands went up to her back, pulling her closer. She had one of her hands in his hair, and one of them...on his cock.

A tremendous wave of pleasure went through him, and he bit back a groan. Some sort of instinct told him that he should wait. This was much too fast. But it felt so good. He wasn't sure if he could control himself. When he felt her tongue in his mouth, he decided it was too much. His hands slid down her back onto her butt. Then he lifted her up. She made a small sound of consent, then wrapped her legs around his narrow waist. Then he was burying himself deep inside of her. It was ridiculously easy. He glided in like butter. There was no hinderance. She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him further in. Her face was on her shoulder now, and he had his own face in that crazy hair of hers. He couldn't help it now, he let out a grunt. But if it was a contest in noises, she was winning. She sounded absurd. He almost laughed out loud, but was too distracted by a building force inside of him. With each thrust, it got closer and closer. When he finally came, he pulled her as close as possible, and growled into her wet hair. She held onto him, and he felt her fingernails digging into his back. After a few more movements she let out a shriek that really did make him chuckle.

Bulma heard him laugh into her hair. She rode the waves of pleasure, gasping and writhing. She could feel her nails buried into his back. She was sure that he wouldn't care. Maybe she could even give him a couple more scars. When she caught her breath, she prepared herself for the awkwardness of an afterglow in the shower. She lifted her face from his shoulder, and his own face was inches from hers. His expression was unreadable. He looked both relaxed and confused. Maybe a little shocked. Then he finally spoke.

"That was…fast." Then he let out another chuckle. It sounded almost nervous. "I promise, it won't ever be that fast again."

Again? He was planning on doing this again? But as she thought about it, she realized that this wouldn't be the only time for her, either. She wanted more of him. She smiled.

"No problem. I consider it a compliment."

He let her down gently, shaking his head.

"Well, I don't. This isn't your first time, is it?"

"No, it's not. But I've only been with-"

"Because it was mine. As you can probably tell…" His cheeks flushed.

"I know." She whispered. "You're...uncharted territory."

He laughed, and there was a tinge of sharpness in it.

"For a smart woman, you really do say some pretty dumb things." Instead of being insulted, she just laughed it off. Then she reached for him with her hands again.

"Hey, didn't you come in here to get clean?" There was a long pause, as Vegeta looked at something above her head intently.

"I don't think I'll ever be truly be clean." He muttered. Then he whipped his head back toward her face. He hadn't meant to say that. She just reached for the shampoo.

"Then, I'll just have to help you with that." She slowly poured a small blob of thick shampoo into her hand. The creamy, white consistency of it suddenly made him want her again. He had never felt so ridiculous in all his life. Where did these thoughts come from? She was rubbing her hands together, then she reached up into his hair. When she put her arms up, her breasts got firmer, nipples pointing upward. He realized that he hadn't touched one yet. As she lathered his thick hair, heavy with water, he slowly reached out his hand. He cupped it gently, and she leaned into him with a soft moan. This sounded a little less ridiculous than the noises she had made minutes before, when he had been inside of her. But he liked her for them. It meant she was pleased with his body.

"Your hands are so soft… How is that possible, with how much you fight? I thought for sure they'd be-"

"It's the gloves." His smile dimpled his mouth again. Bulma felt her insides clench. He was so sexy. She almost couldn't stand it. He'd been inside her for next to nothing, and she would have him again, if it killed her. He had one soft hand on her breast, gently squeezing the nipple, and the other was on the small of her back. She never dreamed he would have been so willing to touch her. She should be repulsed by those hands. They had killed hundreds. Maybe even thousands. Somehow, she didn't care. He hadn't killed anyone since he came back to her planet. It was almost like a clean slate. Plus, she could only imagine how good one of his fingers would feel down…

"I always wear them into battle. My father did too. Maybe it's a royalty thing... " His voice trailed off, husky and a little awkward. He wasn't used to talking this much. At least, not to her. She continued to lather his hair.

"Sexy." Was all she said about the gloves.

"Hm." Was his reply. Then she took him by the shoulders and pushed him back into the hot stream of water. He was startled for a moment, then he felt the rush of the water and the heaviness of his hair fall warm on his shoulders. She had pulled it up in its original style when she shampooed it. Her hands were still in it, rinsing the white froth out. This part always made him impatient when he was alone. His hair was so thick that it took the better part of five minutes to get all of it out. She didn't seem to mind, and was unnaturally fascinated with his alien hair.

"It's so black when it's wet."

"It's black all the time."

"But..sometimes, when you're in the sunlight, it looks brown."

"That's just...the light behind it. My hair is black. All Saiyans have it." She felt the word "idiot" at the end of the sentence, even though he didn't say it. She used to take his insults seriously, but now she was a little more tolerant of them. She knew he didn't really think she was dumb. If he did, would he have allowed this?

It took her awhile to wash all the shampoo out of his hair, and by then, she was dying to get to his body again. Could she make him hard one more time? Her mind was set on challenge mode, and she wouldn't give up. She reached for a wash cloth and upended a bottle of Dial body soap onto it. Then she stood back for a moment, observing his many scars.

"I bet you have a story to go with every single one of those scars, don't you?"

"Mmm." He grunted. "I don't remember all of them, though."

"Really?" Bulma chuckled, and looked him straight in the eye. "You? Prince of All Saiyans? Not remembering all his esteemed battles?" Her voice was only lightly mocking, but Vegeta bristled like an angry dog. His hand grabbed the foamy washcloth that she'd been about to scrub him with. He hadn't meant to be forceful, but the way she said it reminded him of the source of some of his worse scars. Freeza, and his lackeys. Even when he was young, he had acquired some from Zarbon for mouthing off. He did NOT want to be reminded of that right now.

"What do you know about battle?" He snapped. "You're just a puny Earth woman." She backed away, her eyes suddenly wide with fear. Usually, when he yelled at her, she fired something back without missing a beat. But now, she just stood there, naked and vulnerable. Her tits were even hard still. He was strangely aroused by that. Her being turned on, even in her fear of him. But then, he realized that he didn't want her to fear him. So many people had been afraid of him, though his whole life. He had loved every minute of it. But now, he was tired of it. It was like a set of armor that he wore until it was shreds. He needed new armor now. He forced himself to take a deep breath.

"Don't go running away like a frightened rabbit. I didn't mean...just come here." He handed her the wash cloth, and stood still, letting her wash him. But the mood had gone, and now it was awkwardly silent. Bulma squirmed uncomfortably. Vegeta sighed.

"Just...let me take it from here. I can wash myself." Bulma looked up at him, and he could see anger in her eyes. He hadn't wanted her to walk away angry, but her mood shifted so easily. She crossed her arms over her breasts.

"Fine. If that's the way you want it." She turned her wet back on him, and was about to open the door, when he moved in behind her.

"No…" He whispered into her ear. "That's not the way I want it."

Bulma gasped. Her body trembled, but not with fear. So, he wasn't done with her yet. She didn't know what had made him so angry, but she hoped she wouldn't provoke him again. This was the first time things had gone so well between them. _Don't blow it._ She told herself. Then, she suddenly grinned at the implication. She wondered how shocked he would be if she did that. She felt his hands on her shoulders, keeping her from walking away. Then, unexpectedly, she felt the soft cloth against her back. He rubbed up and down, as gentle as he knew how. She let out a little moan, and her knees bucked. He chuckled behind her.

"Calm down, I'm just washing you…" But there was a wet sound, and the rag was on the tile at her feet. She felt his hands at her thighs, and she leaned into him. Was her really going to…? As his fingers brushed the inside of her thigh, she drew in a breath. _Oh, my god… His fingers. How does he know what I want?_ Slick with soap, he pushed a finger into her slowly. She gasped, bracing her hands against the cool tile wall. He pulled out, then tried it again, with two fingers. His face was on her shoulder, and she could feel his breath hitch as she tightened. A few more strokes, and she shuddered. Her body naturally backed up into his, and she felt his hard member, pressing against her. He groaned softly, and pulled his hand away, then rested both of them on her hips. She made a sound like a whimper, giving her consent, and seconds later, he was sliding deeply into her again. She bit her lip. _Oh sweet god….nothing has ever felt so good. He fits all the way in. Yamcha never did…_

This time, Vegeta pushed harder. There was still nothing to block him. He couldn't believe that he went in all the way to the base. It felt so good, that he couldn't help but groan against her shoulder. She was making the same noises too, but this time, he found them less ridiculous. Her moaning was deeper, more desirable. Whenever he pulled back, she arched against him, not wanting to let go. His hands went from her hips to her breasts and he cupped them with his palms. When he thrusted even harder, he squeezed them, and when she cried out, his hands slid down to her firm belly instead. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. He went on like this, for what seemed a long time. His hands explored her, getting more pleasure out of her then he thought possible. He felt like she was worshipping him, and the thought only made him drive harder. At one point, he sensed that it was a little too much, and he clenched his teeth, cursing inwardly. He slowed down, but it was very difficult. He finally felt her spasm, and she let out a shriek that would make anyone within a few yards wonder what the hell was going on. He pulled in and out a few more times, enjoying how she trembled with ecstasy underneath him. Then he felt his own explosion. It came on him with such force this time, that he fought for control. His hands were on the tile now, and he was glad, otherwise he might have crushed something on her. He yelled out, not even caring about suppressing it this time. Then he was gasping, feeling his own body shudder along with hers. How could something like this take so much energy out of him? He rested his head on her shoulder, still moving a little to feel the pleasurable waves.

"Fuck…" He panted... He didn't curse a lot, but he felt like he needed to now. Bulma laughed breathlessly.

"Yeah...no shit…" She replied. Vegeta buried his face into her hair and laughed. It almost felt as good as the sex. He hadn't laughed like this in a long time. His arms went around her waist and he gave a little squeeze. She was making him feel so strange, but he didn't care right now. It was something he would mull over later. He felt her body turn, and he released her. She faced him.

"Seriously, though. You are amazing. I've never felt anything so good. Have you?" He watched her plump lips as she talked, and he wanted to kiss her again.

"No…" he said quietly.

"Really? Not even fighting? I thought you totally got off on that."

She saw his dark eyes narrow, and for a minute, she thought she had said the wrong thing again. But then his hand was behind her head, and he was pulling her toward him. His lips pressed down on hers hard, and she felt the bite of her own teeth. She sucked in air, but then she realized that she trusted him. He had almost hurt her a couple of times during sex, but he'd always slowed down or pulled back. This was a man who knew about control. She opened her mouth a bit, to let him in. Yamcha had been really bad about open mouth kissing, but it didn't have anything to do with being rough. It was because he wasn't confident enough. He had always felt like he was searching, trying to get it right, but failing. Vegeta had never even done this before, but he plowed forward with such confidence that she was fooled into thinking that he knew what he was doing. It felt amazing. She wrapped her arms around the back of his neck, and pushed her body closer. They were like this for several minutes, kissing, touching, and pulling each other in more and more. She wondered if he would get excited yet again. When she felt the beginnings of it, she almost laughed. Saiyans really did have much more stamina than humans. After awhile, he let go of her. They looked at each other for a second or two, measuring the atmosphere. The sexual tension was definitely gone, and Bulma expected the awkwardness to slowly seep in at any moment. She had so much of that with Yamcha that she knew exactly what it felt like. But Vegeta didn't get fidgety. He didn't scratch the back of his neck or say, "Well.." He just stared at her for awhile longer. When she broke away, picking up the wash towel and pouring soap on it, she could feel him watching her. It didn't feel menacing, but she wondered why he was doing it. This was how he regarded opponents in battle. Sizing them up. Scrutinizing every little detail. When she started washing herself, still feeling his eyes on her, she couldn't stand it anymore.

"Uh, Vegeta?"

"Hmm? What?" He broke away, looking almost dazed.

"Why are you staring so hard at me?" She laughed a little to soften the question. She didn't look at him, busy scrubbing her leg.

"I...I don't…" She heard the shower door pop open, and when she looked up, he wasn't there anymore.

 _Oh, great._ She thought. _Here it comes. Why does it have to be this way? Dammit…_

As she rinsed her body, she heard him rustling around as he dried himself with the towel. She imagined that hair of his, all fluffed up, and it made her smile. When she was giving her face a good scrub, she strained for other noises. All she heard was silence. Had he left? She looked through the frosted glass and saw his black hair.

"Bulma…" His voice was hesitant.

 _Is he doing that weird shy thing? Oh god, shy does not suit this man at allc._

"Do you have ANYTHING else for me to wear besides that blasted pink shirt?" She leaned into the water, and laughed into it.

"Of course, I do, Vegeta. Hold on, I just washed a bunch of laundry. Do you think you can wait a minute for me to get it?"

"Well, I'm not going to just stroll out into the hall naked. I know how much your mother would like that...but you see, I'm sort of involved." Those last words made Bulma glow from the inside out. She muffled a shriek, and turned the water off. Opening the door, she remembered those dark eyes. But he was turned away from her, sitting on the bench with a towel around his waist.

"Oh, now. You're not naked." She smiled, then pitched her head forward to dry her hair. Over the rustling, she heard his voice.

"No, but I would be. This towel would fall right off in front of her. It's fate." His voice sounded so cheerful and natural around her that her heart started beating fast again. Sex hadn't made it more difficult, it had made it easier. But how long could they keep from yelling at each other? And was it really so bad? Out of all the people she liked to argue with and scream at, Vegeta was her favorite. He made blowing off the steam...fun. Everyone else cowered when she got mad.

She tossed her damp curls up into the air, and found that he was watching her again. But she just smiled and arched a brow at him.

"Are you telling me that my mother undresses you with her eyes?" She said, coyly. He chuckled. _There were those dimples again. Damn, he looked good when he smiled.  
_ "You know she does. I think she has a crush on me…"

"No offense, Your Highness, but she has a crush on every well-built man created. Pretty much all of the Z Fighters." She was drying under her breasts now, but he was still looking at her face. He hadn't batted an eye when she called him Highness. Maybe he liked it.

"Z Fighters." He scoffed. "Where the hell did they come up with that name? It's almost as corny as the Ginyu Force."

"You know…" Bulma wrapped the towel around her body. "I really don't know where that came from. I certainly didn't make it up."

"Thank god. It would be almost worse if you did."

"Oh, shut up." She passed by him and twitched a finger. "Come with me to the laundry room."

As he followed her without hesitation, she wondered. God? Which god did he believe in? And hadn't he said, "gods" before too? Well, he had died once, maybe he did believe in some power higher than himself.

"I hate to ask, but where the hell do you get these clothes? Isn't it just you and your parents? Don't tell me I'm wearing anything of Yamcha's."

"Silly. Yamcha's clothes would be too big for you." She smiled a mean smile, and he glared.

"You know, I happen to like being small. It's a huge advantage in battle. Nobody knows what's coming, until it's too late." His eyes shifted from a shirt, and he cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Mmm. That makes sense." A moment passed while he buttoned a dark blue shirt on. He still had the towel around his waist. Even though they had just been extremely intimate, she felt like she should leave him to pick the undergarments and pants out on his own.

"You know...I think these are some of my dad's clothes." Vegeta's hand hovered over the last button.

"What? But, he's smaller than me."

"Yeah, but Dad always wears a couple sizes too big. And he's mostly in his lab coat, so you can't tell anyway. He hates picking out clothes, so he kinda just wears the same thing anyway. You can help yourself to any of this stuff."

Vegeta, looking dignified even in shirt and towel with mussed hair, ran a scrutinizing eye over the folded shirts.

"As long as none of them have pineapples on them."

Bulma laughed.

"Or pink?" He acted like he hated that shirt, but she noticed the iron- on "BADMAN" and the fact that he wore an undershirt with it.

"Or pink. I still think that was your mother's shirt, by the way." His eyes roamed among the underwear.

"Is this your father's underwear too?" He ran a hand through his damp hair with aggravation.

"Tell you what, Vegeta. Maybe I should make you some new armor."

His eyes snapped up with interest, but instead of answering he made a small affirmative grunt.

"In fact, I'll start on that today. Do you still have the old stuff laying around that I can analyze?" He nodded.

"I never threw it out."

"Awesome. Just bring it by my lab later, okay?" She winked at him cheerfully.

"All right. Now, could you leave? I really don't think you'll relish the sight of me putting on your father's underwear."

She shook her head vigorously and brushed past him, sprinkling a few droplets onto his skin. He watched her back as she left the laundry room. His innards were churning all over the place. What in the seven hells had they done? And why did he almost feel guilty about it? There were so many new thoughts rushing through him, that he was pissed off at his own feelings. He wished he could just tell them to fuck off like he did with everybody else. But there was something about her that made him smile to himself as he picked up a pair of pants. It might take awhile, but he felt he could learn to like living here.

For the rest of the day, he thought about her. Even deep into his training. He thought it would be distracting, and he was partly true. But the little Bulma images in his head also seemed to spur him on. He surpassed his limits, and in the evening, when he found himself wandering into the kitchen, he realized that he didn't want to hide from her chi anymore. She was making him stronger, and he was going to let her.


End file.
